


Music Maketh the Man

by DreamcatchersDaughter



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Feels, Bucky is a Radio DJ, Canonical Character Death - Yinsen, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned Canon-Typical Violence, Music, Mutual Pining, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Some Canon Typical Graphic Description of Torture, Some Humor, Steve is a little shit, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony is a Rock Star
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5492387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamcatchersDaughter/pseuds/DreamcatchersDaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Love is like music. Some high notes. Some low notes. But always a beautiful song." -Jesse Joseph</p>
            </blockquote>





	Music Maketh the Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sperrywink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sperrywink/gifts).



> This is a gift for [Sperrywink](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sperrywink) for the Winteriron Holiday Exchange. I hope you like it! 
> 
> A Big thank you to [Potrix](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix) for letting me rant & for encouraging & inspiring my ideas. 
> 
> A Super Special thank you to [Akira-of-the-Twilight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Akira_of_the_Twilight) for being an amazing beta, for inspiring my muse, for cheering me on & being one of the main reasons I had the courage to finish this fic. She also added her own bit of sparkle to it & it was so lovely I couldn't take it out, so I credit her for the three brilliant sentences listed in my end notes.*
> 
> Title is inspired by Kingsman, but sadly this story has nothing do with the film, I just really liked the movie and alliteration. 
> 
> Song lyrics & titles belong to their respective artists. The music titles & lyrics used for Tony belong to the artist Halsey. I have included a link to a playlist of some of the songs that went into this fic & of some that reminded me of the boys. The link is in the end notes below.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!

Tony toyed with his favorite wrench as he stared at his latest project. The schematics for the new  _ Stark MP3 _ player seemed to be mocking him. His wrench was too clumsy a tool for the intricate wires of the new  _ Resilient _ model he was making, but it helped him think to fiddle with it. At least that's what he told Rhodey when the man teased him about it.

“Sir, Colonel Honey Bear is calling.”

Tony smiled uncontrollably.  _ Speak of the devil _ . “Patch him through, J.”

“Hey, Honey Bear, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Smile still in place, Tony lowered the radio’s music to a quiet hum in the background.

“He has me listed as Colonel Honey Bear again, doesn’t he, J?” Rhodey inquired wryly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I would nev-” 

Tony was cut off by JARVIS’ affirmative response, “Yes, Colonel, Sir finds it quite amusing when I address you as such.”

Rhodey’s laughter was warm and affectionate. “I take it you miss me, Vanillabean.”

 

“Oh, how I miss thee, let me count the ways,” Tony snarked. “How's it going in military land, platypus? They finally decide to pull their heads out their asses and make you President?”

Rhodey snorted in response.”That's not how it works, and you know it. Quit messing around. Tell me how it went.”

“What? This isn’t a social call? You didn’t call me just because you missed me? Why I never-”

“Tony.”

“Aria’s well. Her daughters are so big now, Rhodey, and her wife Hazel is as lovely as ever.” Tony’s words were hushed in the quiet of the lab. “Aria told me she forgives me. Again. Says it every time. Says, ‘I’ll say it until you believe you're worthy of it, Tony Stark, and not one day less.’”

“Robin was quiet this visit. He uh- he thanked me as I left.” Tony murmured softly. “He shouldn’t ever thank me, Rhodey, I-I-“

“You were and still are a damn good man, Tony, and they know it. I know it. Maybe one day you’ll know it, yeah?”

“Yeah... I told them you sent your condolences. Of course, they thanked you for your continued service and for saving them. Thank you.”

 

Had it been four years ago, Rhodey and Tony wouldn’t be having this conversation. Tony would be at the bottom of the bottle, feeling sorry for himself. He had been in fact, until Rhodey had convinced Tony that his idea to visit the surviving soldiers was a good one. Was something he should do.

Aria Walters and Robin Johnston, had been two of the remaining three survivors of the convoy that had been blown to smithereens six years ago. Well, he’d survived and Rhodey had too, so he guessed that would make five of them. 

Obie had paid the Ten Rings to kill him, but they’d had other ideas. They wanted his mind for murder, his hands for weapons. It was a dose of irony he found he couldn’t swallow. He’d never wanted his father’s weapons empire to begin with, but Starks weren’t allowed to be anything so effeminate as musicians. When Howard  and Maria died in the car accident, Obie had started in where Howard left off. Telling Tony that the board wouldn’t take a musician seriously. 

Tony should've known then that Obie had ulterior motives. But grief, arrogance and the need to prove his father's ghost wrong had left him blind-sided. 

 

He’d paid for it in blood. Yinsen’s blood.

Yinsen had changed everything. He’d given Tony hope when there’d been none. So Tony built himself a new heart and then together they’d planned their escape. A suit of armor. He’d gotten as far as the chest plate, rocket boots and face plate when they’d been discovered. 

Yinsen hadn’t begged for his life. He’d only asked them if he could speak his last words. 

He’d smiled softly and sadly as he spoke words Tony would never forget.

“You aren’t your father, or the man who betrayed you. You aren’t the weapons you’ve built or the blood they’ve spilled. You are more than a machine, Tony Stark, you are a good man. It’s who you choose to be next that counts.” 

They shot Yinsen point blank. 

 

Tony had blown his captors all sky high in retaliation, making his escape with only rocket powered boots, flimsy hand stabilizers, metal strapped to his chest and a mask secured to his face. 

He’d lost a piece of himself that day.

 

Rhodey had found him lying in the desert not five hours later. Tony had never been so glad to see that face smiling down at him. 

The kidnapping, captivity, and torture hadn’t been the worst of it. 

It was coming home.

Coming home when he’d known so many soldiers hadn’t, known that Yinsen hadn’t, and that it was all his fault: it weighed heavily on him. 

 

Five years later, and he was still piecing together all he’d broken.

“Tones,” Rhodey said softly.

“Anyway, new song coming out soon! Pepper likes this one a lot, I think. Got some new ideas for  designs on the children’s prosthetics. I was thinking superheroes and kittens might be a good idea, ‘cause who doesn’t love kittens, and honestly I-“

“Did you try again this year?” Rhodey’s question was a knife to Tony’s heart.

“No. You know I haven’t. I won’t. I can’t. He asked not to see me, Rhodey. I stood outside the door to his apartment and listened as he told Pepper, he wanted nothing to do with the likes of me. I can’t blame him. He lost his arm because of me, and his military friend Riley. I have taken so much from him, Rhodey. I won’t take anything else.”

“Tony! It’s been five years. He wasn’t ready for you then, but he might be now. You made him a new arm that you upgrade and fix every time it  has a glitch. You pay for him to be in the best doctors’ care, and you support the program that helps him pay for his medical expenses. My point is: you have given him so much, Tony. Why not give him the chance to forgive you too?” Rhodey was wheedling now.

This argument was an old one. James Buchanan Barnes the last remaining survivor, had lost his arm and his entire unit, including one of his dear friends. Tony had sent an inquiry just like he had to the other two. He’d asked to visit, to apologize, to help somehow  fix what he’d broken. James Barnes had denied his request, said in no uncertain terms that he wanted nothing to do with him.

“He wouldn’t thank me for a lick of it if he knew, and you all of people should know that! He shouldn’t have to. He has no reason to thank me and I don’t want him to. I owe him all that and more. Won’t ever be able to return what I have stolen from him.” Tony’s voice had risen in his panic.

“Tony, listen to me. You didn’t do this.”

“No, but I made the weapons that did, Rhodey. I was ignorant, arrogant, and I THOUGHT I WAS HELPING PEOPLE. I write music to clean those wounds, Rhodey. I build prosthetics, I make sure  _ Stark Industries _ produces the best medicine, and SI funds veterans and children's hospitals. We make the technology that protects the soldiers they send out. Everyday I do my best to right what I did, but it won’t ever be enough.”

 

“It won’t bring them back.” Tony’s voice shook.

“No, it won’t. But it is enough, Tony, because you are giving the best you’ve got and you won’t ever stop. It's high time you forgive yourself.”

“How? How can I, Rhodey?”

“With James Barnes, for starters. Try again, ask him to forgive you, ‘cause I know you won’t be able to forgive yourself until you do.”

He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself, even then.

 

He’d come home and burned the weapons division to the ground. He’d had Obadiah tried and thrown in jail for treason, embezzlement and murder. He’d promoted Pepper to CEO, cleaned out Obadiah's rats and started his own recording company called  _ Resilient.  _

Within a year, he’d put out his first album  _ More Than a Machine _ under the pseudonym  _ Iron Man _ , something he’d dreamed of since his mother had first taught him how to sing. He’d put more focus into SI’s medical division and created a branch just for prosthetics. With the help of the Maria Stark Foundation, he’d created a medical clinic that catered to Veterans and Military families at no charge. With Pepper in charge and the mysterious  _ Iron Man _ on the rise, he’d hermitted himself away from the world. 

 

He’d become possessed by Yinsen’s last words. But it seemed no matter what he wrote, built, or gave away, it was never enough. The guilt devoured him. Then he’d learned he and Rhodey weren’t the only survivors.

When he’d finally let Rhodey convince him that his idea of visiting them wasn’t a dumb idea, he’d found Robin drowning at the bottom of a bottle. Aria was holding herself together a little better, but the scars shone vividly through the depths of her eyes. 

He’d promised himself he’d help them in whatever way he could. So he did, and he still visited them every year.

Except Barnes. 

He’d silently promised never to bother the man again.

 

Tony sighed. “Can we talk about something else for a little while, please, Rhodey?”

“Sure, Tony. Did Pepper get you to agree to do the Manhattan Winter Music Festival this year?”

Tony laughed, thankful for the change in subject. “Yes, she threatened me with death by Jimmy Choo should I try to wiggle out of it. Apparently, it's been too long since Iron Man has done a proper concert. Darcy should be excited.”

He could hear Rhodey’s smile in his words. “I bet! I’ll stop by the day of your performance, don’t want to miss my Vanillabean in all his glory, yeah?”

“Shut up!” Tony said fondly.

  Rhodey and he talked for another good forty minutes and ended the conversation with the promise to see each other soon. He loved Rhodey, and he missed him, but that argument hurt more and more every year. Mostly because he hadn’t told Rhodey his secret.

 

He hadn’t told anyone really.

“JARVIS turn up the music, would you?” Tony turned toward his project. 

_ “You're listening to Back Talk with Bucky Barnes. Up next: AC/DC’s Thunderstruck to round out the dinner hour, and later on in the show will be the Rousing Remix hour, where I am forced to play every callers gruesome request.” _

His voice was like a balm to Tony’s soul. Tony didn’t know how to tell Rhodey that he hadn’t quite kept his promise. He wondered if calling into the man's radio show to ask for Darcy’s latest music recs counted as asking for forgiveness. Probably not, what with using an alias every time he called in.

 

Rhodey was right, he should try again, and he thought about that every time he called in. Thought about admitting who he was, asking if they could meet and he could apologize for real. You’d think after four years of listening to the man talk about what it was like to be a veteran and the problems he’d had with PTSD, of listening to him talk with other veterans, of listening to him discuss music and destroy people's ridiculous requests, Tony might have drummed up enough courage to call in and be honest for once.

But his courage would always fail him whenever he remembered the only other time he’d heard that voice. Dark, angry and biting: “Why would I ever want anything from the likes of him?”

 

As the opening chords filled the room, a bitter smile crossed his face.

_ “I looked around. And I knew there was no turning back...” _

-

Bucky was tired as all hell. He would have been sleeping in his warm comfy bed if wasn’t for this stupid Music Festival meeting. He sipped his coffee as he walked into work, gaze focused dead ahead. He turned the music up on his phone, trying to wake up himself.  _ Iron Man _ ’s  _ Hold Me Down  _ blasted his ears.

_ “My demons are begging me to open up my mouth.” _

 

Feeling like shit and walking like he was on the warpath for having to get up so goddamned early, he didn’t see the handsome man speed walking in his direction. 

The force of their collision sent them both falling to the ground. 

“Ah, fuck!” Came the muffled voice from above him. Hands gripped Bucky’s denim clad elbows and helped him up. “Sorry, sorry, shit, I am so sorry.”

Bucky lifted his gaze, ready to tell this clumsy fucker off (even if it had been both of their faults; it was too early for this shit, damn it), but he got sucked into a magnificent amber gaze. His mouth snapped shut in shock.

 

Fuck! The guy was gorgeous. Bucky had never seen such a handsome face. He pushed his hand shakily through his hair. 

_ “I need them, mechanically make the words come out.”  _

 

“Nah man, don’t worry about it. I wasn’t looking where I was going. It’s fine.”  He couldn’t stop staring at the man’s face. Soft tufts of hair flying every which way, neat manicured goatee and dimples like the devil. 

The man smiled at him quick and sharp. He nodded politely, then sped off, his footsteps sharp and purposeful. 

Too late, Bucky had realized he’d spilled his coffee. Fuck. Whatever. He continued walking to work, thinking about those bright amber-eyes. 

 

_ “Ignite me, licking at the flames they bring about.” _

-

Tony hurried determinedly towards  _ Brooklyn & English _ , the cafe Darcy had chosen for their meeting. If he was late this time, she would kill him for sure. As he rushed down the sidewalk, his mind drifted back to the blue-eyed stunner that he’d quite literally run into.  

Something about the ruggedly handsome man, seemed so familiar.   _ Maybe it was his voi- _ He was jarred out of thoughts by the sound of  _ Boss Ass Bitch _ ringing loud from his phone. Darcy.  _ Shit. _ She was gonna kill him.

-

Bucky walked into the radio station, the dark circles under his eyes standing out in the florescent lighting. He clutched what was left of his coffee in a vice like grip. He was not a morning person at the best of the times.

Wearing his coffee and having to deal with Sam's perpetually perky morning attitude did not make for the best of times. On top of Fury’s usual winning personality, it looked like this morning was going to be a long one.  

He sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t end up doing any out in the field assignments for this thing. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be so lucky. 

 

There was a reason he did the late night show and it was first and foremost because he was not a fucking morning person. Steve had actually gotten him his first interview here for the position of morning radio host.

He’d left the interview with a job, just not the one he’d gone in for. Nick Fury had made it rather clear that “You’d make a great Saturday Morning Radio Host, with that bright, sunshiny disposition, but I only have one slot open for a cranky jackass on my morning show, and that’d be me.” 

_ Good Morning Motherf**kers!  _ (exclamation point included) was apparently the most popular saturday morning show in all of Manhattan. 

 

So Bucky ended up doing the late shows on Saturdays. Then when Loki (the old evening weekday show host) lost listeners because he complained too much about his familial issues on air, Nick saw fit to promote Bucky to the regular spot, which was how  _ Back Talk with Bucky Barnes _ was born.

And thank fuck for that, or else Bucky might have had to spend half his pay replacing busted alarm clocks. 

 

Coulson, despite knowing this, had scheduled him for the morning meeting anyway. Bucky had the strange feeling this was a not so subtle punishment for getting drunk with Clint last weekend and taking him Karaoking. But this seemed a little uncalled for. 

It hadn’t been his fault Clint had woken up in the dumpster outside Clint and Coulson’s shared apartment. He had  _ even _ gone out of his way to return Clint to the couch that Bucky had stolen him from the night before, if a little worse for ware. 

Granted, the vomit Coulson had found in his new trainers the next morning might have been Bucky’s fault. 

He winced at the memory. 

 

Usually the evening staff just got debriefed on the weekly meeting due to scheduling conflicts, but this meeting, for whatever reason, was mandatory.

He half-heartedly high-fived Sam as he walk passed the man's booth and trudged into the conference room. He directed his surliest glare at Coulson as he entered and took the open seat next to a half asleep Clint. Coulson’s face didn’t twitch an iota, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Not surprising. 

 

Sam took the seat next to him after wrapping up the live portion of his morning show.

“Good Morning, Sleeping Beauty!” The cheer radiating from his every pore. He was like the friggin’ sun with UV rays shinin’ out of his ass.

He loved Sam, honest he did, but the man was a menace. His upbeat morning outlook made him an excellent morning talk show host for the weekdays. It also made him a terrible roommate.

He had never thought living with Steve's boyfriend while Steve was on tour with the  _ Avengers _ would drive him up the proverbial wall.

He had figured after living with Clint for a good portion of three years Sam would be a breeze. When they had hung out together with Steve in the afternoon or at the bar in the evening, the man had seemed so mellow and laid back. Even a little sassy.

 

Mornings seemed to transform Sam into this superhero paragon of sunshine and happiness (which Steve adored), but it drove Bucky mad--madder than the mad hatter. The whistling, the smiling, and the happy.

He grumbled out a half-assed greeting and laid his head on the table. Sam laughed in his face, while munching on his morning bagel.

“Cat got your tongue, Barnes?”

He flipped Sam the bird with his metal arm for extra emphasis. He found the responding laughter disheartening. 

Sam sucked. 

He wished they could get this stupid thing done with. He dozed off a little, as more of his co-workers gathered in the conference room. Clint kicked his leg, and Bucky snapped to attention as Fury fell upon them like an avenging demon.

 

“Let’s get down to business, people.”  

-

Tony hadn’t actually died when he sat down to breakfast with his music manager, but it was a near thing. Luckily, he had thought to bring his usual form of bribery: Lindor Chocolate truffles: The key ingredient to Darcy wrangling.

“You’re still late, Tony. Don’t think for a second chocolatey bribes are going to work on me mister!” Her exasperation and fondness undermined her reproachful facade.

“You sure?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows. Natasha’s information had yet to ever be proven wrong, especially in regards to her wife.  

She whapped him on the shoulder with the menu. “For now, but next time, don’t be late, or I’ll sic Natasha on you!”

He shuddered. It was an effective threat. Tasha was terrifying when she wanted to be. 

 

Pepper had vetted and hired Darcy after he posted his first  _ Iron Man _ music video. He hadn’t planned his debut into the music industry at all, despite his dreams. 

He’d been trashed in his workshop one night. Horrific memories had flashed behind his eyes: pieces of his sternum being removed then replaced with a rusted magnet and a shorting car battery, electric shocks jolting him as the water splashed onto bare wires. 

When he had reached the last hellish memory that night, of being held face down in the murky ice water, the music had consumed him.

Music had always enraptured him. He lived and breathed music much the same way he did engineering and science. Harmonic symphonies and mathematical equations, intertwined at the base of his spine and wrapped around the gears of his aching heart. 

 

He’d been singing since he’d been ripping apart car engines at the tender age of four. His mother had taught him piano, violin, cello and vocals. His father had shown him how to rebuild weapons, engines and motherboards.

Until he was eight that is. That was when Howard had decided music wasn’t a man's profession and did his damndest to shove that part of Tony’s identity down until all that remained was Howard's perfect little tool.

But the music hadn't stop thrumming in Tony, so while he was being unwillingly cultivated into the perfect mechanic, he coded his lyrics and musical scores into his equations.

 

Only that night there hadn’t been any Howard to stifle him, or Obidiah to whisper poison into his ear.

Just the music thrumming behind his arc reactor, wanting to be freed. The words pouring over and over again, and battering his skull.

_ You are more than a machine, Tony Stark. More than a Machine. _

 

That's when he’d began to sing an acapella and eerie version of his now famous single  _ Gasoline _ .  

JARVIS had recorded it to his servers as Tony sat in the dark, with only the blue of the arc reactor in his chest and the blue of his holograms back lighting him, casting his face in shadow.

Even drunk off his ass his words had been eerily clear, his deep baritone echoing off the walls. 

He’d laughed rather hysterically after and said in jest, “JARVIS, that one can be for my new youtube channel. They’d call me the Iron Man, cause I don’t have a heart. Make it preetty- eh, J?” 

“I do believe you mean the Tin Man, Sir. Do you wish for me to post the video?” 

“Go head Blue-J, what’s it matter anyway?”

 

Pepper, bless her soul, had stormed into his lab after the video had gone viral.

She had just snapped, “If you wanted to be in the music business, this was not the way to do it, Tony.”

As supportive as ever, she’d hired Darcy on as his music manager, and suggested Natasha for public relations. 

When he’d hit a wall, regarding record companies refusing to sign him without knowing who he was, Rhodey had laughed and said, “Just start your own.” 

He’d been kidding, but Tony had presented the idea to the board, about  _ Resilient _ and taking on Iron Man, pitching  _ Resilient _ as an extension to their technologies division.

 

Now he was arguing with Darcy yet again the merits of having a secret identity. But the truth was, he didn’t think he could go back to the lifestyle or the man he’d once been. Tony Stark coming back into public light would have to do just that.

“Natasha thinks it’s time.” 

_ That _ shocked him into silence. Natasha had been the one to fully support his hermit like tendencies in the beginning. Suggesting that the image Obadiah had cultivated of Tony Stark would clash with and tarnish  _ Iron Man's _ raw talent. _ Iron Man _ , who played his shows in intricate, red and gold face masks that were covered in decorative cogs and gears.  _ Iron Man _ , who wore metal fingerless gauntless to match.

“Why? Why now?”

“Because it's been five years, Tony, and Tony Stark has been nothing but a silent and mysterious benefactor to the world of music, medicine, and technology, since Stinky Stane has been locked away.” 

“You’ve revolutionized prosthetics and made your medical care unlimitedly available to children, veterans, and struggling families, while your very successful  _ Starkphones _ , tablets, and mp3 players take the world by storm.” 

“There was even an article in the newspaper about the stronger kevlar you developed to protect our troops and officers. Tony Stark being  _ Iron Man  _ could only help your image now.”

“What is with you and Rhodey today bringing this shit up?”

“Because, Tony, you are amazing and you deserve to be happy. Rhodey, Pepper, Natasha, Happy, and I can tell that hiding this is no longer making you happy.”

“Nat really agrees with this?”

“Yes. She wants you to do the big, revealing interview at the Music Festival. She is also in talks to see if afterward you can do a joint performance with  _ Steve Rogers and the Avengers _ .”

 

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“No, Tony, I am not. I-“

“What can I get you today?” the lovely waitress asked, her name tag read Angie proudly.

Tony smiled up at her winningly. ”A date with you,  _ mon cherie _ .” It was an empty flirt; he’d noticed the elegant wedding band on her finger.

Her laugh rang out sharp and sweet. “Flattering as that is, I am a married woman, sir, and my wife wouldn’t take too kindly to you moving in on her territory.”

A sweet, lilting English accent chimed in with, “Who’s moving in on my territory?”

Tony looked behind the waitress in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned if it isn’t Radio Station Sensation Peggy Carter.”

Tony was startled to see a very familiar, positively striking brunette, standing with her hands astride her hips. 

“Anthony! Biggest Space Nerd You’ve Ever Heard Tony!” 

Peggy and Tony rushed to each other, laughing as they hugged. 

 

“Didn’t mean to hone in on your wife here, Peg-Leg. You know me, just a harmless old flirt,” he said with a genuinely warm smile.

“‘Peg-Leg,’ really? I haven’t heard that awful name in ages. Of course, I know your old tricks. You flirted with every man, woman and dog I dared to greet.” She said, fond tone coloring her words.

“I wasn’t dog-knapping bad,” he sounded scandalized.

“I was once holding a lovely dog when you literally charmed her out of my arms. With just a whistle too! Fortunately for me, you weren’t nearly as successful with people.”

Tony laughed loud and long. 

Darcy stared at him like he’d grown another head.

 

“You were a terrible flirt. And I do mean  _ terrible _ . Your puns drove away half of my dates alone.”

“I was  only fifteen at the time!”

Peggy turned to Angie. “Rhodey and I tried to teach him how to flirt, but to no avail. How he has become so charming now is a mystery.”

Tony smiled at her, warmth in his heart. He turned to Darcy. “Darcy this is an old college friend of Rhodey’s and mine. Peggy this is Darcy, my ever suffering friend and music manager.”

That seemed to unfreeze Angie and Darcy.

“English, you didn’t tell me you are friends with Tony Stark.”

That Angie recognized him at all surprised Tony. The last time he’d been seen in public, he’d been baby-faced and clean shaven with much shorter hair than he had now.

“I did too, I told you all about the little ducklings that followed me around during college. I just didn’t mention they were Tony Stark and his best friend James Rhodes.”

“So why haven’t you heard from him since?” Angie seemed frustrated.

“We lost touch when I went abroad to England for my studies. Then the accident happened. It was all over the news when I tried to contact him, but a man named Stane said I shouldn’t call anymore.”

“When Tony didn’t call or write I gave up. I sort of thought you were to lost in your grief and if you needed me you’d let me know..”

“Course now I know it’s because Stane had been isolating you, but it had been so late by then, I wasn’t sure you’d remember some silly English girl, what with all that was going on.”

“I could never forget a friend like you, Peg-Leg.” Tony’s smile was sad. 

 

“It was equally my fault. I stopped contacting people after a while. Rhodey was really the only one stubborn enough to stick around through all of Obadiah’s bull shit and mine. You had your own life you needed to focus on, and I respected that.”

“I did miss you though, Tony,” she said softly.

“I missed you too. I am glad I got to see you again. You should hang out with me and Rhodey sometime, get up to our old mischief.”

She smiled at him. “I’d like that.”

Angie smiled and added, “I’d like that too. You can tell me all her embarrassing college stories that the boyo’s don’t know about.”

“You bet,  _ mon cherie _ .”

“Oh, stop it, let me get you some tea.”

He and Darcy invited the ladies to have lunch with them, so the topic of _ Iron Man’s _ coming out was tabled for now. 

 

He was under no illusions; however, that Darcy wouldn’t start right back up again as soon as she got the chance.

-

Bucky, knew it! He knew he had the worst luck.

He sat across from Sam in Peg’s dinner, cursing Coulson and his revenge schemes. His head on the table he glared at the side of his glass of Coke, trying to set it on fire with his mind.

“Your pyrotechnic ass needs to calm the hell down, the assignment is not that bad.” Sam said blandly, flipping the page in the book he had his nose buried in.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Mmmmhmmmm.”

“Fuck. Just fuck me.”

“No, thank you. Steve is enough man for me.”

“Oh god, no, Sam, don’t. He’s like my brother, you know exactly what I meant, you ass!”

Sam smiled out of the corner of his mouth. 

 

“I don’t see what the big deal is. You’ve gotten a lot better with crowds since you’ve come home. You are good with people. You love music, not to mention you're in LOVE with  _ Iron Man _ , so what's the problem?”

“That’s the problem I- Hey wait just a fucking minute, Sam. I am not IN love with  _ Iron Man _ . I just really respect the man's music. It’s helped me through a lot of shit. I just don’t want to embarrass myself in front him. That’s all.”

“Riiiiiight, uh-huh, sure, you just ‘respect his music.’ You even pulled out your throaty radio voice to defend yourself and everything. I mean it's not like you own every album he’s ever put out, been to every concert, or have spent hours daily speculating about the man behind the mask. Nope, not like that at all.”

“Oh, shut up. I don’t have a god damned radio voice, that's my normal voice you ass. I swear you're as bad as Stevie, the punk. Is he feeding this shit to you through text or something? It’s not like I am gonna get to talk to  _ Iron Man _ anyway, just his publicists or public relations woman. Whatever.”

“I can sass all on my own without Steve’s assistance. Thank you very much. Also, didn’t you hear? This might be the event he does the big reveal.”

Bucky’s head snapped up. He stared wide-eyed at Sam’s grinning face. “You're fucking with me.”

“Nope.”

“Fury wants me to do the interview? On my program? The biggest reveal in music history? Me?”

“Yup. You. As soon as he gets the go ahead from  _ Resilient Records’ _ woman in charge, that is exactly what he wants you to do.”

“Holy, Fuck.” Bucky dropped his head to the table with a loud thunk. “This is so much worse than I thought, Sam.”

Sam snorted. “Dude, relax. It’s not like you have a huge crush on the guy or anything, right?” That smile was back on his face.

“I hate you. So much.” 

Sam laughed. 

“It’s not funny, Sam. I am gonna die of spontaneous combustion just at the sight of him. Then Poor Stevie won’t have a best man at your guys’ wedding.” 

 

He side-eyed Sam, a smirk on his face. Served him right.

Sam was flustered “Shudd’ up, asshole.”

“Turnabout's fair play n’ all that.” Bucky blew his hair out of his face then took a sip of his Coke. He drummed his metal fingers against the table.

Pegs came by with their order and slapped at his hand. “Sit up and eat your food, you heathen. Honestly, Barnes.”

“Yes, mom,” he snarked. That earned him a slap to the back of the head.

“Don’t sass me, duckie, and Steve will have a best woman at his wedding should you expire before the joyous occasion arrives.”

Sam snorted into his drink. “Man, she told you.”

Bucky rubbed at the back of his head. “Rude.” 

 

She waved him off as she went back to work.

He and Sam shared a laughing glance and tucked into their meals.

-

Tony sat across from Darcy and Natasha in the living room of the penthouse. They had decided to ambush him here, to pester him about the reveal. 

This wasn’t happening. Not only did they want him to out him as  _ Iron Man _ , they thought SHIELD would be the best place to do it. 

Tony stared at Natasha in disbelief. 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, No.”

“Tony, this is not up for negotiation. When you signed Maria on to run  _ Resilient _ , so that you weren’t playing the main attraction and the boss, you also signed on to listen to her when she says you need to get shit done.”

“Why the hell are you fighting this so hard anyway? We have always discussed revealing yourself in the future. Now is the perfect time.”

Darcy snorted. “I get the feeling it isn’t the revealing he’s objecting to or he would have given you a detailed report as to why he thinks it's a stupid idea.” 

Natasha narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you hiding, Stark?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Nothing, absolutely nothing. Fine, I will do the stupid interview, but maybe pick a classier radio station to do the interview with. I mean,  _ yikes _ , talk about a dump. I think I am gonna go do real work now, you know, for my  _ other _ company.”

 

He realized too late that his attempt at nonchalance had been too over the top. 

Natasha looked even more suspicious than before. Fuck, his big mouth. Even to his own ears it sounded like he was trying too hard to appear unbothered.

“Guess, I’ll see you later then,” he spoke fast, and made a dash for the elevator. Just a few more steps and he would be locked away in his lab. 

“Hold it, Stark.” 

Natasha’s voice stopped him cold. Shit, he was in for it now.

“What?”

 

“Don’t try that innocent act with me, Stark. Why is SHIELD, the station you have been up selling to Maria for months, suddenly a classless dump? Wasn’t it just last week that you were saying we should send one of our up and comers there to boost her ratings?

“Because, and I quote, ‘ _ All of Manhattan listens to that station, even me,’ _ end quote.”  She was gunning for him now.

“Nope. Wasn’t me. Must have been my evil twin,” the last of his words were obscured by Tasha grabbing his cheeks and squishing them together.

“Tell, the truth, Tony.” 

“Not a chance in hell, Tash. Not this time.” Tony slipped out from under her hands, and dashed into the elevator. 

 

Safe at last.

At any other moment he’d have been scared shitless of Natasha’s integration tactics, but not in regards to James Buchanan Barnes.  

He knew exactly which radio show host Maria Hill thought would handle the interview perfectly, and he wasn’t going to do it.

  
It was bad enough he called in during the requesting hour and asked him to play Darcy’s strange music recommendations, using aliases and voice modifications. Bad enough, he flirted with the man over the air and tried to pretend radio stalking the man who hated him wasn’t unhealthy.

Tony tried to pretend he wasn’t falling for the man who was brave enough to talk about his PTSD with other veterans on air. A man who snarked and tore to shreds some truly awful music choices during the Rousing Remix hour, but turned around and gave honest critiques on the songs he admitted were good, but not up his alley. A guy who argued passionately with a bigoted or racist caller or comforted troubled young men and women about questioning their sexualitly.

It was bad e-fucking-nough Tony had never been brave enough to pull up a picture of the man's face. Couldn't bare to look the man in the eye, knowing he’d ruined his life. Didn’t want to see his face etched behind his eyelids, the way he did Aria, Robin, Riley, Christopher, Robert, Shayla and the 30 other soldiers they’d lost that day.

James’ voice still managed to haunt his dreams.

Tony couldn’t face James, no matter how much he’d like to tell Rhodey otherwise. The truth of it was: he was terrified, terrified that Rhodey was wrong. That James would still hate him for what he’d done.

 

Terrified that as soon as James learned who he was, James would leave the interview in a rage and repeat the words that kept Tony up at night.

Tony knew his fear was exaggerated--people changed, he changed--but that didn’t seem to stop the worry from settling in. James’ opinion had come to mean a lot to him after spending four years listening to his radio show.

Speaking of…. JARVIS turned on his music, which surprise, surprise was tuned to 10.6X SHIELD Manhattan's finest.

_ “For those of you just tuning in, this is Hawkeye closing out the early evening hour, until next time. We’ll have Back Talk with Bucky, which will be closing out the evening. For now, I leave you with the Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know. You’re listening to SHIELD’s 10.6X. Hawkass out!” _

Tony turned to his work with a laugh.

 

_ ”Do I wanna know? If this feeling flows both ways?” _

_ “Baby, we both know, that the nights were mainly made for saying things, that you can’t say tomorrow day.” _

-

Bucky watched as Steve approached the steps of their apartment, Steve’s smile was as broad his shoulders. When Steve reached the door, Bucky wrapped Steve up in a bear hug.

It was good to see him after so many months of Steve being on tour with the  _ Avengers.  _

“Hey, Buck. How's it going? Still giving Fury hell?” Steve stepped back to run a critical eye over Bucky. Ever the mother hen, Bucky’s Stevie. 

“You know it. More than usual lately. You still out singing with your infamous boy band?” Bucky questioned playfully.

“That's,  **famous** boy band to you, jerk.” Steve pushed past Bucky into the apartment, ramming his shoulder as he went. Steve set the duffle he’d been carrying down in the hallway and took a seat on their couch.

Bucky smiled, shutting the door a he followed Steve into the living space. “Whatever, punk. Infamous or famous, it’s still a boy band.” Steve chucked one of the couch cushions at his face.

Bucky blocked and caught it with his metal arm. He ran at Steve and tried to beat him with it in retaliation. Steve laughed as he blocked Bucky's strikes half-heartedly and wrestled him to the floor. Steve sat on his stomach in triumph and began tickling Bucky’s ribs relentlessly. 

Bucky was laughing so hard he couldn’t breath, so he gave in. “Mercy, me-rcy! Knock it off- yo-u r-ight bastard,” he said between laughing breaths. 

Steve let up in tickling his friend, deciding instead to collapse on top of him.

 

Bucky let out a grunt as the weight of Steve’s upper torso landed on his chest and stomach. “Jesus, Stevie, what have you been eating? You weigh a ton.” The comment earned him a jab to the ribs with Steve’s sharp elbows.

“Gah. Ow, what’d you sharpen those things with?” Bucky lay beneath him, arms spread out and hair fanning out behind his head. Steve laid his head on Bucky’s chest.

“So where’s Sam?” Steve’s words were muffled by Bucky’s plaid flannel shirt.

“Went out to get some groceries for dinner, should be back in a few. Missed your hubby, did ya, Stevie?” Bucky snickered when Steve let out an embarrassed groan. Steve jabbed another elbow into Bucky's ribs for his cheek.

“He’s not my husband, you ass.” Steve grumbled. 

“Ow, God kid, they’re like javelins or something. N’ what's with all this muscle? Who you tryin to impress, eh, bub? Sam’s already your boyfriend.” 

Another elbow. 

“Just beat me up, why don’t yah, Stevie? Just leave me here to bleed out, from all the holes your pointy elbows have been leaving in my sides.” 

Steve laughed in response.

 

Yeah, it was real good to have Stevie home.  

“I will keep beatin’ you up, if you keep runnin’ your mouth. Just got home n’ all I get is cheek.” Bucky could feel Steve’s smile, even as he spoke the words.

“Hows work? Sam told me Fury gave you a big interview?” Steve pressed his chin into Bucky’s sternum as he craned his head up to peer at Bucky. 

Bucky eyed him from the awkward angle. “Tellin’ tall tales now, is he?”

“Well, I don’t know Buck,  _ Iron Man's _ reveal sounds like a big deal to me, you sayin’ your not interested?” 

 

Bucky rolled his eyes at the ceiling and huffed in exasperation. “You know that's not what I am saying. If anything I am too interested, the guy is coming out to the world, and he doesn’t need some fanboy squealing in glee on top of everything else.”

Steve muffled a giggle. 

“It’s not funny, you ass!”  

Steve burst with laughter.

“Sorry, I was just picturing you jumping up and down, squealing in excitement. That would be hilarious. Just picture this big buff, tough stuff veteran squealing like a teenage boy.” Steve started laughing again. “Oh lord! And in an  _ Iron Man _ shirt too. One made for thirteen-year-old boys, so it wouldn’t possibly handle your body mass, so it would look like it’s going to burst off of you at any second.”

“Oh yeah, this is really gonna make me want to do the interview. Just keep laughing it up, Stevie, you punk. I’ll just sit here in shame then, shall I? Tell Fury I died because my friend smothered me when he broke out into a laughing fit? At my pain no less? Shameless, Stevie. Just awful.” Bucky could feel the flush crawling up his neck.

 

Steve always knew how to razz him.

“Oh, shudd’up, Buck, you big drama queen. You’ll do just fine. You’ll go in, do it all professional, using your husky radio voice and everything, then freak out when you get home.” Steve smiled up at him.

“You think?” Bucky wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t royally mess up.

Steve sat up a little, resting his elbows on Bucky’s sternum to do so. His face was serious. “Yeah, Buck, I am sure. You’ll do a damn fine job of it too.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” Bucky said, voice gone soft. Then he wriggled a bit. “Get your javelins out my lungs, punk! You’re gonna puncture something!” 

Steve laughed and fell back on his friend in a heap.  “Ow. Christ.” Bucky whined. 

“Shudd’up, pillows don’t talk,” Steve retorted, poking Bucky’s cheek.

 

Sam walked in not a minute later, arms full of groceries. He froze. In a high-pitched dramatic voice, Sam exclaimed, “How could you? I trusted you, Bucky, and I come home to find you sleeping with our pool boy. What will the neighbors think?”

Bucky and Steve busted out laughing. Steve rolled to the side, clutching his stomach as tears streamed down his face. Bucky curled on his side, laughing so hard it hurt.

“Po-ol boy?!” Steve shrieked out between his laughing. “I am just a pool boy now, is that it?” He finally managed, while grinning up at his boyfriend, who had moved to stand over them.

“Well, you certainly look good enough to ogle while I sit by the pool and drink appletinis.”  Sam wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.  

“Should I put on something more revealing for you,  _ sir _ ?” Steve purred, looking up with a salacious smile on his face.

Bucky made a fake retching noise. “Oh, god they’re flirting. Someone call the ambulance. I thinking I am dying of an overdose of sweetness.”

 

Steve whacked at him with the cushion he’d thrown at him earlier.  

Sam smiled down at both of them. “You guys gonna help out with dinner, or are you just gonna lay there all day?”

Steve jumped up. He pulled Sam into a passionate kiss as he sneakily took the bag of groceries from Sam's arms. 

Steve pulled back after a good minute and sauntered smugly into the kitchen.  

Sam stared after Steve looking a little dazed.

Bucky looked up at Sam with a wicked smirk. “I think I’ll just lie here. You look like you're too busy drooling after Stevie's punk ass  to be much help making dinner anyway.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at Bucky then went after him with the cushion Steve had abandoned. 

 

Bucky’s laughter filled the room. Suddenly, he felt a lot better about his upcoming interview.  

-

With a wary eye, Tony stared at the holoscreen displaying his schedule. 

Natasha had cornered him not an hour later after his  _ “dramatic exit” _ and convinced him that it was in his  _ “best interest”  _  to go through with the interview. 

 

Tasha could be very convincing when she wanted to be.

Tony may have caved eventually and told Natasha that’d he’d do the interview, but only so he wouldn’t have to reveal to her why he’d refused it in the first place.

Because he knew she cared and she’d get in her head that he had to face this fear head on, like he’d done everything else. Barnes wasn’t just a fear, he was a person, a person Tony had unintentionally hurt. But she’d said before that a fear was a fear. Nothing that couldn’t be conquered.

Tony believed that Natasha could conquer anything. He wasn’t so sure about himself.

 

It wasn’t just the interview with Bucky that was making him nervous either. He wasn’t sure he was ready to go back into the world as Tony Stark, and he really wasn’t sure he could go out into the world as  _ Iron Man _ .

Performing was one thing, putting himself out there for the first time since Afghanistan was nerve wracking. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been this nervous about something. 

  
“Sir, Nicholas J. Fury is calling to confirm the time and place of the interview. Mrs. Romanov  had me transfer the call to you. She says,  _ “Mr. Stark needs to take the final step himself.” _  What would you like me to do, Sir?” JARVIS’ voice carried approval.

_ Perfect Timing.  _ Tony thought. “Put him through, J.”

“Good evening  _ Mr. Iron Man.  _ Just calling to confirm the interview, Mrs. Romanov  advised it would be best speak with you directly.”

Did she now? Of course she had tried to corner Tony even further. Joke was on her really. 

“I am so sorry, Mr.Fury, but  _ Iron Man  _ is out at the moment. He wanted me to let you know he has decided doing the interview now is poor timing. We, will have to get back to you at a better time.” Tony said in higher pitched version of his voice as if he were a particularly snotty secretary. 

“Hmmm. Does the  _ Iron Man  _ have a particular reason this is poor timing? Mrs. Romanov  assured me his schedule was open for the appointment, and that he was fairly willing to go through with the reveal. Maybe we can accommodate him somehow?”  Fury sounded like he was trying to be professional, but his patience was wearing a little thin.

“I am afraid he didn’t give me a reason, sir. But if your station still wants to do an interview with the masked version of _ Iron Man _ he will still be available at the festival. Have a lovely day.” He motioned to J to cut the call.

 

The silence that followed seemed rather disapproving, if an AI I could be disapproving. Somehow JARVIS seemed to manage just fine.

“I am allowed to chicken out everyone once in awhile, J. Can’t be a hero all the time.” The words felt a little hollow, as they left his mouth.

Tony hadn’t been aware his own silence could also provide a sense of disapproval. Taking self chastisement to a whole new level.  _ You learn something new every day.  _ Tony thought bitterly

 

One thing was for certain, Tasha was going to put his head on a pike. 

-

Fury listened as the dial tone mocked him. Natasha Romanov was a smart woman. He’d send in the big guns then. 

-

Come Monday (the first day of the festival), Fury had already decided to call Bucky into his office. He wondered wryly, what exactly he’d done now. 

“Looks like  _ Iron Man _ is being difficult about the interview. Has a case of cold feet.”  Fury said, seeming a little unimpressed. 

 

“Why don’t  _ you _ go down to the music festival and see if you can’t talk the man into it, Barnes?” Fury’s lips twitched like the man knew something Bucky didn’t. Never a good thing. 

“Right, cause that’ll work. I can  _ magically _ convince  _ Iron Man  _ by  _ batting my baby-blues _ and succeed where his Manager, Publicist, and BOSS apparently failed.” Bucky’s tone suggested this was highly unlikely.

“Don’t underestimate yourself. You might be surprised, how convincing your  _ baby-blues  _ can be, Barnes.” Fury’s droll dictation let Bucky know how unimpressed he was with Bucky’s assessment. 

 

“And just so you know, Barnes, that husky radio voice don’t work on me, so knock it off.” Fury intoned curve to his lips.

“It’s not me I am worried about.” Bucky muttered under his breath as began walking out of the room.

 

A little louder he added, “And I don’t have a fucking radio voice for fucks sakes, where is everybody getting this?”

“Get down to that festival and get me that interview and yes, Barnes, you do.” 

“All right, shit, don’t get your panties in a twist. I am already gone.” His sass was gonna get him murdered by Fury one of these days. 

“Don’t bother coming back until you’ve got it,” Fury yelled out the door after Bucky. 

Bucky he rolled his eyes.

“I saw that.”

Bucky staved off the urge to flip Fury off. It wasn’t good company etiquette, he was told. Had been told many times actually. Fucking Coulson.

Bucky snagged Sam’s arm on the way out of the building.

“If I have to brave this shit, you're coming with me, besides I hear Stevie and the band will be hanging around the festival the next few days too. It will give you a chance to catch up with your hubby.”

The punch to the arm was expected. “Ow. That was uncalled for, ass.”

Sam snorted. “No, it wasn’t.”

Bucky grinned, the devil in his smile. “No, it wasn’t.”

Sam punched him again, for his sass.

Maybe this would be alright after all.

-

Wrong. He was very, very wrong.

When he’d gone to the trailer  _ Iron Man _ and crew were staying at, but no one had been there. A nice lady had turned him around and told him that they were setting up a merch booth in the park and that maybe he’d have luck there.

Which he hadn’t apparently, he had just missed  _ Resilient’s _ Manager and _ Iron Man's _ Publicist by five minutes.

To top it all off, a kid had spilled soda on his shoes, leaving them drenched. The kid had even burst into tears, which just made Bucky feel like all kinds of crap.

When he’d finally gotten the kid calmed down and apologized to her mother, he’d realized he’d lost Sam along the way, and he had no clue where the fuck Sam was.

He turned to head back in the direction he remembered the booth being in and ran smack dab into another body.

He fell on top of the poor guy and found himself looking into a pair of striking amber-eyes. A very familiar pair of amber-eyes.

The man he’d collided with not too long ago smiled brightly up at him.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were running into me on purpose. There are easier ways to ask a man on a date, you know? I certainly wouldn’t mind.” The man wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Bucky sputtered, heat rushing to his cheeks.

That had not been what he’d been expecting at all. Sweet Jesus, this man was a charmer.

The man laughed throatily and said, “Not that I mind, but are you gonna lie on top of me all day? Maybe you could help a guy up instead?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Shit. I am so sorry. Here, just let me-” He pulled them to their feet. Why was he acting like Steve on his first date?

“Sorry, ‘bout that. But if I remember correctly, it was you who ran into me the first time.” Jesus, what was his problem? Was he suddenly new to flirting again? Had some magical fairy waved its magic wand and stolen his ability to flirt? Eight-year-olds had more game than him at this point.

Mister Fuck-Me-Silly amber-eyes was grinning big now. ”So I did. Glad to see you remembered me, must of made a good first impression then.”

The smarmy quick-witted bastard. Bucky wasn’t charmed. Not at all. “Or it might have been the hot coffee down my front, but who's to say?” Really? Snark?  _ Brilliant plan, Barnes _ .

But the guy didn’t seem to mind. “Touche, let me make it up to you then? Maybe I could help you find where you’re going? You looked a little lost before.”

“Before? Did-did you run into me on purpose?”

“Possibly. That might have been a thing that happened. Did it work?” He was smiling brightly still.

“Maybe.” Bucky couldn’t help but stare; the man was breathtaking. Even in tight fitted, dark washed jeans and a loose band t-shirt, he still managed to look like someone who’d walked out of the GQ catalogue.

 

Or Bucky’s best wet dream.

Honey-eyes cleared his throat. Pink colored his cheeks as his looked up at Bucky through charcoal eyelashes. 

Someone kill Bucky now, and spare him the raging hard on growing in his pants

“So.. um.. where are you headed?” The man sounded a little nervous. Probably cause Bucky was staring a hole in his head.  _ Fuck. _

“Right. Actually, I was looking for  _ Iron Man _ .”

The man looked a little startled in response. Shit, had that made him sound like a creepy fanboy? It did, didn’t it?

“Are you big fan?” the man asked cautiously, which was a little weird. So what if Bucky was a fan, that didn’t mean he was gonna freak out if he met  _ Iron Man _ . Well, maybe.

“No. I-mean yes, I am a fan. Like...I love the man's music; it’s world altering. How can you not be impressed, but.... shit.. not to say that I am like a big fan in a creepy kind of way or anything. It’s just... I...” He trailed off flustered. This was not how he’d wanted this to go.

But the man was smiling at him softly now, and what had they been talking about? 

 

“ _ Iron Man _ .” 

Fuck, he’d said that aloud, but if it got this guy to smile dopily at him like that, it was worth it.

“Right, do you know where I could find him, ‘cause I would just really like to find him?” Bucky finished lamely. What the hell was his problem?!

-

Tony ogled at the beautiful, blue-eyed Apollo he’d had the great fortune to run into for a second time. This time a little more deliberately. 

Apollo’s jacket was leather this time, fitting over his shoulders loosely. Leather gloves covered his strong hands, while tight fitted, black jeans; a green henley; and a pair of beat up old steel toed combat boots completed the rugged fuck-me-handsome look. 

 

God he was a sight to behold, that slightly longer than normal hair framing his lightly stubbled jaw line.

Definition of stranger-hot-damn-danger, and he was a fan to boot. A big fan.

Stick a fork in him; Tony was done.

Blue-Eyes was just a stunner, more so now that’d Tony had heard the man speak, even as he stumbled over his words, telling Tony he was looking for  _ Iron Man, _ i.e. Tony, and if that didn’t boggle the mind Tony didn’t know what would.

He couldn’t help but smile at the man in front of him.  “Come on, I’ll show you where they’re setting up their booth. See if you can’t find some to help.”

 

Tony began leading the man toward the booth he’d just escaped. An irate Natasha was nothing to mess with, and she was spitting mad that he’d canceled last minute. 

But walking next to this divine work of art, Tony figured it might well be worth the pain of death. 

-

The charmer led him back to the _ Iron Man _ merch table--low key flirting with him the whole way.  The man was a pro, he’d found a way to touch Bucky’s elbow and forearms to steady Bucky without being creepy about it. Just light, teasing touches that had Bucky wishing he wasn’t wearing his favorite leather jacket.

 

Those hands looked like works of art. Sadly, the man had said they would have to part ways here, but not without the cheeky remark of:  _ “Hope we run into each other again soon. _ ” Parting with a jaunty, little wink and a sinful swagger of his ample hips.

Bucky was here for  _ Iron Man, _ he thought fiercely. Not to turn into some distressed damsel in front of a total stranger. A totally gorgeous stranger, with strong hands and wiry muscle arms beneath his nice jacket and what was he supposed to being doing again?

Right.  _ Iron Man. _ Bucky could do this. He could totally do this. He wasn’t going to squeal like a teenage boy at his first concert. Absolutely wasn’t. God, sometimes he hated Steve and his stupid imagery.

  
“You must be Mr. Barnes,” a very lovely voice greeted. He turned to stare a little wary eyed at the dangerously beautiful redhead. Bucky felt a strange need to bow his head to keep from making prolonged eye contact and to cover his junk. This from a man who’d faced down drill sergeants and terrorists. 

 

So he’d be leaving with none of his dignity intact today it seemed. Great.  “Um, yeah. Yes, I mean I am here to convince  _ Iron Man _ that we- SHIELD that is would handle his reveal with the utmost care and that we are eager to fix whatever changed his mind. Or so I was told in not so many flowery words.”

He didn’t even stutter.  _ Woo-freaking-hoo!  _ “Is it possible to talk with Iron Man? Maybe letting him get to know his interviewer might help a little? Take some pressure off?” Bucky tried in his most professional voice. 

The intimidating woman eyed him critically, “That would be acceptable, just don’t use that voice. Or is seduction your usual technique?” 

Bucky flushed. “No mam’, I mean miss. Right no voice, got it.” Strangers too now? Or was everybody in on the joke? He didn’t have any voice other than his own. 

The redhead offered her hand. “Natasha Romanov, nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes.” She said his name as if she had had Bucky all figured out from the first she’d laid eyes on him, and he found that rather unnerving.

Romanov ’s handshake was strong and firm. Like if Bucky held her hand too long, a stinger would pop out of her wrist and pump him full of venom. It was eerie. Bucky had always respected  _ Iron Man _ , but the respect he had for him went up tenfold, because brave was a man who could take this woman on and live to tell the tale.

 

“Right this way, Mr. Barnes.” As Bucky followed her, he felt a little like he was walking into the spider’s lair. 

-

Tony had just finished having, his mask applied to his face. He looked in the mirror and all he could see was the faint outline of his eyes. The blood red background of the mask enveloped his face, while the glittering gold swirls and intricate cog works outlined the contours. It was beautiful and alluring, especially with the blue of the arc reactor splashing light upon it; it made the mask look mechanical and mysterious. A brutal contrast to his deep rasping vocals and passionate music.

Tony was really looking forward to introducing  _ Control _ from his new album  _ Up the Irons _ .

 

Tony was just about to get some coffee (he had to suck it through a straw sadly), when he heard a rap at the door and Darcy’s happy voice calling through. “Hey  _ Iron Man _ , there's a man from SHIELD radio station, who wants to talk to you about the interview. Are you decent?” 

Tony glared at the door. He smelled a trap. 

“Who’d they send, Darcy? I swear-”

Then Tony heard the voice of the man he’d just spent a good ten minutes flirting with, well shit.  

He knew Natasha’s meddling when he saw it. She had sent a honey-trap. “ _ Iron Man _ , sir, please, if I could just have a moment of your time.” Tony thought about sending the man away, Apollo or no, but Tony could already see the disappointment in those cobalt eyes.

 

A big fan. Fuck his fucking life. He wondered if Natasha knew just how effective this honey-trap would turn out to be. Probably. Tricky little spider.

Tony opened the door to the familiar face he’d seen earlier. The man was still breathtakingly beautiful, and even more so now with that wholesome and earnest look on his face.

Tony was done for. “All right, you got five minutes to convince me to do this interview before I go out on that stage. And Go!” His voice came out muffled and unrecognizable through the mask. The cadence sounding strong and even, if a little skeptical. His dismissive attitude was a charade; he’d already been thoroughly beaten. He already knew he’d do whatever this man asked.

 

Natasha was dead woman walking.

 

“Right, I-I, umm… Okay well my nam-”  

Darcy interrupted the man. “Oh, for Christ sakes, stop being so rude and at least invite the man in if you are going to give him only five minutes. Don’t be rude.” 

Tony glared a hole through her head. “Yes, my apologies. Please, do come in.” His voice was brittle. He could do this, he told himself. 

Blue-Eyes sucked in a shaky breath and entered cautiously. Nerves looked good on him. Tony had the horrible feeling everything looked good on this stunner. Tony felt his common sense go down like a tree in a hurricane, no resistance. 

 

“Right, shit, okay. So Fury thought you might feel better if I did the interview at the station instead of here, and if I introduced myself first so that there weren’t any… um nerves? Also, less chance of a mob of fans. I promise it will be handled professionally. No probing questions that aren’t pre-approved. No poking fun at anything ‘cause… I... well...I am a bit of fan actually.. of your, um, music.. so, yeah. Would you please reconsider?”

_ Yeah _ , Tony thought,  _ nerves look real fucking good on him. _ Tony opened his mouth just to give in already, when Mr.Sex-In-Tight-Pants caught his second wind. If Tony hadn’t been screwed before, he certainly was now.

He stood a little straighter, looked Tony right in the eye, and said, “Your music is an inspiration to all kinds of people, including me personally. Gave me courage and hope, when I was sure I had none left. It would be an honor to meet the man behind the mask, because the man that speaks through this music is already pretty fantastic. I hope you reconsider.” Then as if that was all he could take, the man ducked his head and turned to leave the trailer. A sense of defeat-- maybe even a little embarrassment--in his shoulders.

 

That wouldn’t do. At all. Tony wanted to destroy everything that put anything like defeat in that man's countenance. “Consider me convinced. I’ll do the interview. As long as it’s you.”  

Apollo froze, then turned to smile heart-meltingly at Tony’s face. Fuck. “Thank you, you won’t regret this.” 

Tony doubted that. His heart was misbehaving already.

“See you Wednesday, then,” Tony said, resigned to his fate. Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about Barnes now.

 

No, all he had to worry about now was the god who had left his dressing room. Did he mention how royally fucked he was?

Darcy grinned at him in triumph.

He glared at her. “Go tell our dear Widowmaker, that her honey trap worked its wonders. I am sure she’ll be thrilled.”

 

Time to panic to Rhodey. 

-

Bucky waited until he reached his apartment to freak out.

Bucky opened the door frantically, then slammed it shut behind him. He slid halfway down the door. He closed his eyes and let his freak out commence. 

A part of him was squealing like the teenage boy Steve had painted so vividly (tight t-shirt and everything). The other parts of him were: 1.) completely and utterly embarrassed (because fuck, had he actually stuttered in front of one of his personal heros?) and 2.) genuinely panicking, because holy fucking shit: _ IRON MAN.  _

He had convinced the  _ Iron Man _ to do an interview with him. 

Bucky opened his eyes and came to the realization that he was not in fact as alone as he had thought.

Coulson, Clint, Steve and Sam stared at him in varying degrees of surprise. Coulson looked mildly startled, which was actually kind of cool, because that much emotion on his face was a miracle in of itself. Clint was gleeful. Sam was caught between surprised and falling into hysterical laughter. While Stevie--the little shit--smug as all fuck. 

 

Steve clued him in as to why there was a big shitting-eating grin spanned across his stupid punk face, “So you stuttered in front of Iron Man, huh? That's not so bad. Told ya your Teenage Fanboy wouldn’t come out until you got home. Have a little faith, jerk.”

Bucky’s face went beet red. He’d said that all out loud? 

“Squealed a little bit too.” Sam said, also sounding smug. 

Sam and Clint lost it then, roaring with laughter. 

 

Fuck. Why not just shoot him now and be done with it? 

Before Bucky could run off, Steve enveloped him in a big, old grizzly bear hug, twirling Bucky around like a dame.

“Congrats, Buck, I knew you’d get the interview. I am so proud of you.” The warmth that sentence brought Bucky chased away any lingering embarrassment. 

“Thanks, Stevie,” he whispered as he gripped Steve tightly back.

 

Sam broke the moment with a wry, “Should we leave you two alone?”  

Bucky grinned gratefully at Sam, he was always great at defusing emotional situations. 

“Yes, Sam, I need to reaffirm my affections for our pool-boy. Please, leave us in peace. It's just not working between you and me anymore,” Bucky said with air of sincere anguish, while clutching at Steve dramatically. 

Sam immediately responded in a high-pitched, “How dare you, James Buchanan Barnes!? I gave you the best years of my life! I thought we meant something to each other. ” 

Steve scowled at them both as the room burst into laughter. He shoved Bucky into the couch, acting properly scandalized.

 

Bucky laughed until the breath left him. He watched as Sam tackled Steve with kisses and hugs, trying and failing to appease the playfully affronted man.

Bucky felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He caught his breath, then frowned at the unfamiliar number. 

“Hello?”

“Is this James Barnes speaking?” a stern sounding woman's voice inquired.

“This is he.”

“This is Maria Hill speaking, I was calling to ask if you were available tomorrow to sign a nondisclosure agreement, so we can give you the rundown on  _ Iron Man’s _ pre-approved questions and his identity. We don’t want any incidents between now and the time of the reveal, I hope you understand. This is simply standard operating procedure.”

“Uh, sure. Would 12:00 pm be a good time?”

“Yes, that would be excellent, Mr. Barnes. Good evening.” She hung without waiting for a reply.

 

Bucky stared at his phone. Bucky came to the sudden and violent realization that by 12:00 pm tomorrow he would know who  _ Iron Man _ was. 

Oh God. Bucky was going to be the first outsider to know  _ Iron Man _ . How in the hell had he completely overlooked this?

Bucky freaked out majorly for a second time, that night. Steve was unbearable about it too. Punk.

-

Buck stared at the wall of  _ Resilient Records’ _ meeting room in blank shock. Maria Hill sat quietly across from him, with a considering countenance.

_ Iron Man _ was Tony Stark.  _ Iron Man _ was Tony  **_fucking_ ** Stark. He put his head in his hands numbly.

He remembered vividly the last time he’d had a conversation involving Tony Stark. Four years ago--a year after Afghanistan--he was standing with Pepper Potts in his shitty little apartment, living in a level of hell inside his head he hadn’t been able to process at the time.

He remembered Ms. Potts telling him that Mr. Stark would like to see him, at his earliest convenience. He was sure she had been going to give spiel about why meeting with the man would be a good idea and such.

But he’d been so angry then. Angry at himself, at the Ten Rings, and at the world. So he’d cut her off with a sharp, “Why would I wanna see the likes of him?” 

She had stared blankly at him and then got a little angry in the face. 

 

That was when he realized how awful that had sounded.

“Why would I want to see the man I couldn’t save? How do you expect me to face the man, whose life I was supposed to be responsible for and failed to protect? He doesn’t owe me anything, and I want nothing from him. I can’t bare the guilt of it now, there's no way I am going to be able to deal with it if he tries to do something stupid, like pay for my medical bills.

“WHY would he want to see the man who is the reason his best friend left him stranded for three months in the desert because his friend wanted to SAVE ME?” Bucky had started yelling. Tears streamed down his face. “Why would he want to see the man who couldn’t do a damn thing to protect him or any of them? Please, just leave.”

Ms. Potts had given him what now he recognized as an understanding look and left. At the time it had only felt like the worst form of pity.

He hadn’t been able to face the other survivors. It wasn’t until Sam had arrived in his life that Bucky began to work on his survivor's guilt and manage his PTSD. Sam had worked at the local Veteran’s hall (still did), and he had been a big factor in Bucky’s recovery. Not long after they met, the two had become friends.

Bucky’s job at the station had helped that process in the long run too, and years later he was able to revisit and thank Colonel Rhodes, Aria Waters and Robin Johnston. 

He’d never managed to drum up the courage to face Tony Stark though. For a myriad of reasons. 

 

He knew Stark was the reason he had a state of the art arm, that received maintenance every time it so much as glitched. He knew Stark was the reason there weren’t medical bills for him to pay. He knew Stark was the reason he had access to one of the best psychologists and physiotherapists in the country.

When he’d first learned about Tony’s contribution, he’d been furious, but he knew couldn’t refuse treatment when so many others were missing the same opportunities elsewhere. Although, he later learned Stark was doing his best to fix that too. Then when Sam finally helped him through some of his meatier issues, Sam had explained that maybe this was Stark's way of dealing what happened with him. That Stark was feeling his own survivor's guilt.

Bucky couldn’t blame the man for that. So he did what he could to give back, by volunteering at children's hospitals and veterans clinics and taking an hour every week on his show (sometimes more) to discuss this kind of shit.

It wasn’t perfect. Even now he still had panic attacks and nightmares. He still needed his occasional appointments and needed to check in with his physiotherapist to make sure his shoulder muscles weren’t taking to much of a beating.

But he’d never managed to reconcile with Stark. At first it was because he’d decided that Stark just didn’t care about him. But the arm and everything else the man had done for him said otherwise. Then he found himself thinking he was just too ashamed of his reactions. The man had only been trying to mend bridges, and what good would it do to drag up hurtful memories now?

Bucky stared at the agreement. Looked like he didn’t have much of a choice now. 

 

His face scrunched up at the thought. He’d try again.

He now had an opportunity to thank the man for all that he’d done. Especially now that Bucky knew he was  _ Iron Man _ , the man behind the music that had lifted Bucky out of some of those dark spaces to begin with.

Bucky was resolved. No more excuses; he wasn’t gonna let this get the better of him, not now. Bucky would thank the man, offer his apology, and do better this time around.

Bucky signed the agreement with a fierce relish.

-

It was ten minutes before the interview, and Tony was anxious. He paced a little outside the station. Apollo would be there. Tony might run into Barnes. He was claiming his place as  _ Iron Man _ today. Any one of those events would make someone a  wreck, so it was understandable he was a little shaky.

Right.  _ Suck it up, Stark, let's do this. _ Tony strode into the station.

-

Bucky was waiting in his booth. He may have come in an hour early out of sheer nerves alone. Sam had patted his shoulder consolingly and offered to start a prank war on Clint if it would help.

It wouldn’t help, but he wouldn’t pass up that for the world. He’d save Sam’s offer for later. 

Bucky was itching to text Stevie to calm his nerves. Today was the day. 

_ Iron Man _ \--Tony Stark, wasn’t due until halfway through the show, so he busied himself with his routine. Intro, beginning playlist, take a few callers for the day's discussion, which today happened to be the music festival. Cut to commercials, take time to set up the  _ Iron Man _ playlist that he chosen specifically for this venue, end on _ Iron Man's Gasoline, _ then introduce Tony Stark.

Easy breezy. 

Bucky blew out a breath of air as the last lines of  _ Gasoline _ came to a close. 

 

_ “Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.” _

 

“That was  _ Iron Man’s  _ hit single  _ Gasoline.  _ Now, I bet you’re all wondering what the influx of  _ Iron Man _ music was about. Well, we have a treat for you lucky listeners today.” 

“For the first time ever, we will be introducing the real live  _ Iron Man _ , who has decided to reveal his identity to the world.  _ Iron Man _ has always been a personal hero and an inspiration to me, and now I’m the lucky bastard who gets to do the exclusive interview. In just a few minutes the world will know the music industry's best kept secret. Right after these messages from our sponsors.” 

Bucky made the sign for Parker to cut to a commercial. He took a calming breath and turned to face the man he knew would be standing in the door frame of his booth.

 

Bucky stared in shock as the man who had flirted with him at the festival approached him and offered Bucky his hand. Bucky shook it reflexively with his gloved metal hand, not uttering a sound.

“I'm Tony Stark, good to meet you properly.” A gorgeous smile stretched across his face.

Bucky finally found his words, “Good to have you, Mr. Stark. Thank you for doing the interview with us.” His words a little rushed and his palms were a little clammy.  _ Iron Man _ , was Amber-Eyes. Tony Stark had flirted with him, shamelessly.

Steve would never let him live it down if he fucking fainted, but god it was tempting.

_ Keep calm, Barnes. Calm. You got this. _

“Please, call me Tony.” A Devil-may-care grin curled his lips.

_ You don’t got this, dude. Repeat. Abort. You don’t have this! _

“Then please call me-” Bucky had been about to speak further, but was fortunately interrupted by Parker. Parker had knocked twice on the glass, reminding him that the commercials were wrapping up. 

Right. Interview. Got it.

“Anyway, pull up a seat and let's get started, shall we?” Bucky smiled at Tony.

-

Tony smiled back. “Sounds good.” Tony was feeling pretty good about the interview. Then the man, who had funnily forgotten to introduce himself, began to speak. 

 

“Welcome back Manhattan, sorry to leave you with such an awful teaser, but I couldn’t help myself. Now introducing for the first time ever the _ Iron Man _ himself: Tony Stark.”  

Tony’s world felt like it had tilted on its axis. Suddenly Apollo’s voice transformed, into a throaty almost seductive cadence. This was the voice he heard every night as he toiled away on new projects. The very same voice that haunted his dreams. 

Tony would know that voice anywhere and just like an intricate puzzle everything clicked into place. It all made sense now, the gloves, the familiar if a little bit different sounding voice, and the entirely familiar set to the man's shoulders.

Bucky Barnes. 

Blue-eyes was Bucky Barnes. 

He’d been flirting and charming Bucky Barnes! The same man who had stared earnestly at him and asked him to reconsider the interview. Bucky was doing his interview. Right now. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. His head felt dizzy. 

 

“I am pleased to introduce one of my personal heroes, as the musician and as the man. Tony Stark the man who in his spare time is our world renowned  _ Iron Man. _ ” Bucky looked at Tony as if to say this is your cue.

Tony opened his mouth, but his mind was trapped by his newfound knowledge, so in a hushed voice that the mic didn’t quite pick up he whispered: “You’re Bucky Barnes.” 

Even to his own ears Tony sounded a combination of stunned, awed, and terrified. 

-

Bucky had looked up to see awe and not the least amount of terror on Tony's face. That coupled with Tony’s words, urged him to act quickly. “Sorry folks, just give us a second. His mic seems to be having technical difficulties, let’s cut straight to his new single  _ Control _ out on his album  _ Up the Irons, _ and we will be right back with you in a minute.”

When the music began to play, Bucky spoke softly, “Are you alright?” 

 

To say he was surprised when the man began shaking and apologizing over and over again was an understatement.

Bucky quickly realized Tony Stark was crying. He wasn’t sure what deity he had pissed off to deserve this heart breaking sight, but he couldn’t stand to see this man cry.

Bucky rushed over to Tony and pulled him into a tight embrace, just like Stevie did when he was having one of his bad days. 

“Hey, it’s alright. Shhh… I got you. Nothing to apologize for. If you don’t want to go through with the interview you don’t have to. I am not gonna force you.” Bucky rocked him a little back and forth.

Through muffled sobs, he heard, “I-t’s n-ot the st-upid in-tvi-w.”

Tony Stark pulled back and looked up at him with the most heart wrenching-face. “It was all my fault. You lost your arm. You lost your friend. You lost everything, because of me, and you don’t hate me. How can you not hate me?” 

 

Bucky stared dumbfounded. Of all the things he had expected, it was never this.

Bucky gave into his instincts and cupped Tony’s face between his hands and stared right into his eyes. 

In a very serious voice he spoke, “I could never hate you. Never. Not even if I believed Afghanistan to be your fault--which I don’t--I could never hate you. Your company may have built the weapons, but  _ you _ did not choose to use them on civilians and military troops, and then decide kidnap yourself when things weren’t going to plan.”

 

“You escaped from hell and instead of just tearing down the empire you saw creating pain and destruction, you built up a new one in its place that everyday attempts to sustain and nurture life. You built me an arm by hand, after I refused to see you because I was too scared to face the man I’d failed to save.

“Instead of leaving it as a good deed done, you went and paid my medical expenses and made sure I was being well cared for by Manhattan's finest medical facilities and professionals. And that's just what Tony Stark has done to make my life better.  _ Iron Man _ managed to pull my soul out from the fire, and on the darkest days gave me something to live for.” 

“Nothing in me could hate you. In fact I-I sort of have a major crush on you to be honest.”

Bucky realized he was still holding Tony’s face, and he dropped his hands to his sides. He could feel the flush crawling up his neck. He’d meant every word of what he’d said. 

“You do?” Tony sounded awed and hopeful.

 

“Um… Yes, I do? Would you like to maybe get dinner after we wrap up here? My treat?” Bucky rubbed at the back of his neck. He looked at Tony out from the corner of his eyes.

 

Tony’s smile was wide and it reached his red-rimmed eyes. “I’d really like that.” 

“Great! That's great!” Bucky’s heart fluttered like mechanical butterflies in his chest. 

Parker tapped on the glass again. “Uh, guys I hate to interrupt, but the interview...” 

“Shit. Right, I-” Bucky started, but realized Tony was already seated and talking into his mic.

“We’re back now live with me: Tony Stark, the one and only  _ Iron Man _ . Sorry about that folks, I got a little carried away trying to fix the malfunctioning tech. Bucky, tried to convince me it didn’t need to be updated, but I am sort of sucker for a fixer upper.” Tony smiled at Bucky through his impromptu speech. 

 

Bucky smiled back at him. He couldn’t help but think this was the beginning of something beautiful.  

-

Bucky lay on the couch in Steve’s and Sam’s apartment. It had been six months since the world altering interview. 

Tony lay in his lap, head pillowed on Bucky’s chest. Bucky had his metal arm lightly wrapped around Tony’s waist, his flesh hand playing with Tony’s floofy hair.

Bucky was humming along with the radio playing in the background. Clint’s midday show was playing Tony’s latest single  _ Strange Love.  _

Steve, Sam and Rhodey were cooking up lunch in the kitchen, he could hear their light and playful bickering from here.

Bucky smiled at Peggy, who was sitting across him on the loveseat and with a sleepy Angie in her lap. Today was good, just a little family luncheon to celebrate Tony’s new single and Steve and Tony’s upcoming joint project:  _ The Avengers Initiative.  _

It had been a wonderful, albeit crazy, six months. The world at large had welcomed Tony with open arms after the reveal, and while there were some hecklers and haters, all around it had been a positive reaction.

A week later, he and Tony had their first official date. It had been nerve wracking, but the night had ended in a heated kissing session, so Bucky counted it a success. 

Steve had given him an  _ Iron Man  _ shirt one size too small not a month later, the little shit. Bucky secretly loved it, because it was comfy, fit like a glove, and reminded him of Tony. 

Tony had found him wearing it around the house just last week and instead of finding it creepy like Bucky had thought he might, Tony had jumped him quite enthusiastically. 

Tony had goggled. “Jesus sugar, you're wearing my merch and it’s all but bursting at the seams. Fuck. Fuck me. Look at all that muscle on display just for me. Wait, no, that’s a brilliant idea. Literally fuck me.” Then he’d jumped into Bucky's arms, peppered his face with kisses and whispered dirty things in his ear.

Buck chuckled low and throaty at the memory. That had been a beautiful night. 

Tony hummed happily from the petting he was still receiving. “What's so funny, hmmm Bucky-babe?”

“Just remembered I should thank Stevie for giving me that shirt is all.” He grinned wickedly down at the warm, wonderful man in his arms.

Bucky watched as a flush crawled up Tony’s ears.  He was about to tease Tony for it too, when he herd his name on the radio.

“I was asked to add a little something special to our show today, so this next song goes out to our very own Bucky Barnes, a never heard before cover of  _ Can’t Help Falling In Love _ by  _ Iron Man _ .”

 

Bucky stared down at Tony eyes widened, his face flushed, and his heart pounded. Tony smiled up at Bucky softly as the music played.

Tony stood up from the couch, pulling Bucky with him. Tony wrapped his arms around Bucky and began to spin him around the room, crooning along with the version playing on the radio.

_ “Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you?”  _

 

Bucky stared into Tony’s eyes and began singing along with him, which earned him a dazzling smile.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, and this was the only way I could say it.” Tony said, blushing again all the way to the tips of his ears.

Bucky let out a little choked laugh. No, those weren’t tears in his eyes. 

“I love you too, you utter sap,” Bucky whispered, as he leaned in to kiss Tony gentle and sweet.

As they danced slowly around the room, he saw Steve leaning against the kitchen’s door jam. He smiled as he watched Tony and Bucky dance.

 

Yeah, this was definitely something beautiful.

 

_ “Take my hand. Take my whole life too. For I can’t help falling in love with you.” _

 

**Author's Note:**

> * Amazing lines credited to the wonderful [Akira-of-the-Twilight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Akira_of_the_Twilight) :  
> 1\. He was like the friggin’ sun with UV rays shinin’ out of his ass.  
> 2.“Oh lord! And in an Iron Man shirt too. One made for thirteen-year-old boys, so it wouldn’t possibly handle your body mass, so it would look like it’s going to burst off of you at any second.”  
> 3.Had some magical fairy waved its magic wand and stolen his ability to flirt? Eight-year-olds had more game than him at this point.
> 
> Here's the link to the accompanying playlist for this fic: [WinterIron Mix](http://8tracks.com/steeltoekicks/winteriron-mix)
> 
> Enjoy and Happy Holidays!


End file.
